The Last Revelation V: Broken Skies
by Heidi Ahlmen
Summary: Picks up the plot from part one (Night In Cairo). Lara sets out to seek and entomb Set, and Jean is left to wait. Heroes and heroines can save the world, but can they always save themselves?
1. Chapter 1

I am not making any money with this. I do not own Lara Croft, Tomb Raider etc.  
  
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net and 'Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power'. All other sites email me first to gain permission.  
  
Disclaimer, Thank-Yous and some other notes at the end of the story.  
  
========================================================= The Last Revelation Part V: Broken Skies by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) =========================================================  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"Egypt, once again. I have a personal love affair with the country and my heart leaps in joy if I find out the next lead in my latest search will lead me there. Usually I have works piled up - that means I can prioritize or just pick the one that pleases me the most. There was something left from the old scavenger I used to be, as I realized this trip to Egypt would mean robbing Jean's life work from him. His pet project.  
  
But, as few competitors as I have in this dangerous business, there's always a chance someone will get the prize before you. Competition is tough. And bloody.  
  
A reporter on one of my rare interviews once asked if my father was proud of me. To think of it now, I must've groaned something for an answer, but yes, I do sometimes think back to when I was told I no longer had a family.  
  
It's like a spiritual slap to the face. Nothing in the world can really describe it better. You feel when it hits but it doesn't hurt right away.  
  
And Father, yes, I do remember. I do remember how I sometimes, still a child, already bright enough to question your actions, planned to write a book of you when I grew up. "How To Be A Truly Horrible Father".. I was a raving teenager back then, but don't go believing I was the kindest of children before that. I behaved extremely well for a little girl with no parents.  
  
The strangest but the most logical thing about the situation was that I truly did not care what curse he was laying on me that Saturday when I was twnety-one and ready to decline marriage. To all the sceptics out there - go try it yourself: live in boarding school from the age of six, come home at the age of 21 and see if you still care and love the parents you've only seen as often as other children see their most hated relatives. As often as I saw my parents.  
  
"How can you possibly be so unlike your mother, bless her. She was a lady. You sound like a streetwoman."  
  
Slap. Not a very painful one, but yet a slap. Offering a passage to a needed rush of adrenaline.  
  
"If that is you final word, Miss Croft, then I shall inform you that from this day forward I do not have a daughter."  
  
Slap. Hard. No matter how many years away from home - he was my father. Never a dad. Never a daddy. Yet he was my father.  
  
And I was no longer afraid of him.  
  
I apologize. I don't mean to complain. If it wasn't for the valuable lesson about independence my father taught me - I would not be here today. Perhaps. But yet don't take it as if I was apologizing of disgracing my father's name. That I've always done gladly. So much rebelling teenager still is left in the soul bearing the name Lara Croft.  
  
I'm not being very upper-class, am I?  
  
For the record - I have to say that it was not entirely his fault - as overly forgiving as it might sound like. Father - I know it's not all about me. I remember where it all began. "  
  
Lord Henshingly Croft remembered, too.  
  
He put the received back on the phone, and left the hall. Gesturing his servant to go away, he entered the library and sat down. Another phone lied on the library table.  
  
He had just received a phonecall he had always sworn he would get sooner or later - but still a phonecall he feared more than losing his own life. The voice of a Mr DuCarmine had informed him of his daughter's death.  
  
The empty manor withheld a strange atmosphere. Emptiness was everywhere - behind the chandeliers, under the softly lit wall-to-wall carpets. His dogs were nowhere in sight.  
  
A sudden yearning for a glass on cognac hit his mind as he thought he'd become temporarily insane again. Temporarily insane in the form of hearing and seeing ghosts.  
  
He was a lonely man in a lonely life.  
  
Ghosts. His wife was there again. She must've been. Wandering ominously up and down the stairs, keeping an eye on him. She haunted him, at least in his mind. Now he wondered whether her daughter would haunt him, too.  
  
Lara Angeline Croft was dead. Lost in the sands of Egypt.  
  
Lord Henshingly sat down on the library armchair. Squeezing the armrests, he let the memories come. The beginning of his separation from his prodigal daughter.  
  
Westminster Cathedral, London, 11th March 1974  
  
The chauffeur parked the car. Before stepping out into the twilight, Lord Henshingly took some time to brace himself. Aware of the newfound responsibility that was sitting next to him, he turned.  
  
His daughter, age six and a half, was sitting face turned away from him, staring into the street. Wearing a black duffel coat she looked like a dark cherub from a renaissance painting. Fingering her dark curls, she seemed to be wondering something very deeply.  
  
"Lara?" he tried, choking in his own words.  
  
"Yes, Father?" she replied quietly. Lara turned, face turned down, curls bouncing as she turned her head.  
  
"Let's get in, shall we?"  
  
His daughter did not reply. Just stared at him for a second, her facial features slightly twisted - a cry waiting to come out.  
  
Lord Henshingly exited the car and waited for the chauffeur to open the other side door for Lara.  
  
He was ready to weep for his wife.  
  
The church was dimly lit, the scent of beeswax candles everywhere. They cast shallow shadows on the wall ornaments, marble carvings and mosaics. Outside it was already dark, snow silencing the traffic noises.  
  
It was the coldest March he could remember.  
  
Lara's hand tightly gripped in his own, he found her presence somehow very calming. Perhaps yet too young to understand the true significance of the day, she still seemed awfully quiet. If she had cried he'd have understood.  
  
But this unnatural calmness on the day of mourning for the death of her mother, seemed almost haunting. He was angry at Lara's strength, as he himself was shattering to pieces.  
  
A choir was singing as they sat down in the front row. Notes from Mozart's Requiem floated in the thickness of the church air - to be soon vanished in the same air, as other notes took their predecessors' places.  
  
Lara was holding onto his arm as they sat, neither of them wanting to check their watches to see how much they had left before the ceremony.  
  
Another part of Mozart's dying mass was sung. A violent one, a plea from the composer to God to not send him to the flames of Hell. Soft soprano voices framed the male voice's raging allegro; a high-sung Voca me made Lord Henshingly's heart ache. Voca me - Save me. A silent prayer escaped the man's lips.  
  
Lara sat silently, swinging her legs under the church bench. It wasn't anything playful - she was merely keeping herself occupied to avoid being forced to think about where she was.  
  
Then suddenly she got up and leapt down from the bench. Lord Henshingly tried to reach her hand, but she ran out of the reach of his fingers. She hurried towards the altar dais, slowing down her pace as she approached it. Candlelight danced on the surface of her green-black checked satin and velvet dress. Tears running down Lara's cheeks, she made her way through a line of people to the coffin lying in front of the altar. Kneeling down beside it, the little girl crossed her fingers and started praying, tears running down her cheeks even more intensely.  
  
Lord Henshingly Croft turned away.  
  
He opened his eyes. There was no cathedral, only his own library, with a homely fire burning in the fireplace in front of his armchair. Unnoticed, tears had crept in his eyes but not yet fallen on his cheeks.  
  
Half a year after Angeline's death he had sent his daughter away. First he had buried her on the left wing of the house with a private teacher. After a few sad months Lara had been sent to a boarding school.  
  
Aware of his duties, he wiped his eyes and grabbed the phone, full of silent determination.  
  
"If you're hearing this message, I must be out. Be a dear and call my cellphone, the number's 454 2846 274." Gillian Croft's answering machine burped out.  
  
Only other close living relative of Lara's, Aunt Gillian, as the women was usually addressed as, made her living by painting and sculpturing and had a small gallery on Isle of Wight. Not one of the most civilized people in Lord Henshingly's eyes, he wondered how the sister of such ordinary sparrow could have been such a perfect creature as his wife had been.  
  
As her daughter was. As he dialled Gillian's cellphone number obediently, he remembered how he had playfully suggested to her wife to put a fraction from a well-known fairytale to Lara's Christening invitation cards. A fraction from "Snow-white and the seven dwarfs". He had always thought the description of snow-white had fit her daughter so well when she was little. A beautiful little creature she had been.  
  
How he had hoped to keep her.  
  
Life had taken her away.  
  
Gillian answered. "Hallo?"  
  
"Gillian, it's me," Lord Henshingly said.  
  
"Oh it's you then, dear. If this is one of those "how's my dear daughter" -calls, I really have to suggest once again that you call her yours."  
  
"Oh shush Gillian. I'm sorry to hear that I'm not a very looked-forward caller."  
  
"So what's the occasion?" Gillian coughed on the other end.  
  
Lord Henshingly Croft sniffled. "This time it is me who is going to tell the news on Lara."  
  
Gillian's tone changed. She sensed not all was right. "Yes?"  
  
A short silence.  
  
"She's gone," he simply stated.  
  
"Of course she's gone, she'd always up and going, you know that." Gillian chatted, yet her tone revealed she had understood but not comprehended what he was saying.  
  
"She's gone, Gillian. She failed her escape from a collapsing temple in Egypt. I always knew something like this would." his voice trailed off.  
  
Gillian was silent. Nothing to say.  
  
"Gillian? I know this is a bit early, but." "Wait, let me get this coat off first. It's a hell of a rainstorm out there. I don't know what to. I. She was." her voice, filled with tears of disbelief.  
  
"Gillian, I know. I always told her to be careful when she was little, she never listened, she never."  
  
"It's not her fault, Henshingly. God knows what she was doing in there, but I know her well enough to say it must've been something important."  
  
"Important to her, I'm sure. Important to archaeology, yes."  
  
"Don't judge her. You always judged her. Yet she never hated you." Gillian's tone was accusing, bitter. She wasn't sure if she herself believed the part about hate. Melodramaticism or not - Lara wouldn't have touched the subject of her parents with a six-foot pole.  
  
"I couldn't at the time, believe that."  
  
Gillian finished off his argument. "We've had this conversation. She'd have been dead long ago if she had not left home. You know that. You can't hold down wild horses. You had something to ask me?"  
  
Lord Henshingly could her Gillian crying at the other. He felt tears pooling into his eyes, again.  
  
"She'd have wanted, you know, to. Would you. Would you please play at her." he didn't want to say anything more. His voice would have betrayed him.  
  
"Of course." Gillian said silently. With neither of them having anything further to say, they shared a wordless mutual agreement to end the call.  
  
"I'll see you then, in the." Gillian shut off, crying. Lord Henshingly placed the received back and left the room. Cognac would be exactly what he needed. Two, in fact. Ten. Twenty.  
  
His girl was dead. So was he. For all the mistakes he'd made.  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~  
  
As always, comments and reviews would be much appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.  
  
siirma6@surfeu.fi 


	2. Chapter 2

I am not making any money with this. I do not own Lara Croft, Tomb Raider etc.  
  
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net and 'Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power'. All other sites email me first to gain permission.  
  
Disclaimer, Thank-Yous and some other notes at the end of the story.  
  
========================================================= The Last Revelation Part V: Broken Skies by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) =========================================================  
  
Chapter 2  
  
One day earlier  
  
Giza, Cairo Lower Egypt  
  
Hamshed Bakhti knew he would never get the evening off. So much had happened - even a slight attempt to try and fit it all in his head made it pound like during a severe attack of migraine. Occasionally he shared a moment of horrified amusement with himself by gazing at the sky and looking at his watch. One p.m. Night sky. Bloodred clouds.  
  
The other guards had not left their posts for anything that evening. Very strange, that was. One had brought his Quran with him to his post. Others had cast prayers and bags of sand into the gorges the sudden earthquake a day earlier had ravaged open. No one knew how. Everyone pretended they didn't care. It was in the hands of Allah for these things to happen.  
  
His post was to guide the western corner of the Great Pyramid. As also a kind of a guide to one of the world's wonders, he was used to thousands of tourists wandering around the area. For the last couple of days Giza had been empty.  
  
Strange things happen in the world. Sometimes too strange to comprehend. Neither he or his wife had laughed when locusts had come and ate her wife's laundry, hung from the window.  
  
A sign from the gods, perhaps.  
  
And then the insects. Hideous monsters like in American movies. Scarab beetles the size of lawn mowers. Scorpions big enough to jaw a man in two. They had lost five men. Until all the creatures had suddenly disappeared.  
  
The pyramids were waiting for something. Hamshed felt it very clearly, though he had not addressed this feeling to the other guards.  
  
Crazy or not - he believed he somehow had a kind of a telepathic connection with the pyramid. And now the pyramid was obviously telling him to watch his back that night.  
  
Too late. Hamshed Bakhti fell on his back, creating a dusty thud as he landed. After a moment his guard keys disappeared from his belt.  
  
Into Lara Croft's backpack.  
  
'If I wasn't patriotic, I wouldn't be here.' Lara spared no smile at the thought of what she'd said to Jean crossing her mind. Sacrificing the guard had not been necessary, she knew. Letting her thoughts wander as she started advancing towards the Great Pyramid.  
  
Though a murder charge was the least of her worries. Even if she was to survive this.  
  
Patriotic. Lara continued her jogging towards the pyramid as she dug out empty clips from her backpack.  
  
Patriotic. For what country? The whole world had become her home.  
  
She had always thought that saving the world would somehow feel more glorious.  
  
Another leap across the gorge. No possibility of failing. And she cleared the gap. Taking a look around her, Lara searched for the next suitable block. One stood in a sandy hill next to a smaller pyramid. But it didn't hold enough space to get a sprinting speed. Turning around, Lara staggered backwards as the sight of the enormous pyramid wall fell into her eyes. The wind made her hair flew. Lara closed her eyes. This she could do.  
  
Lara jumped - and landed on a block not slanted enough to make her slide down. 'So this is how it works,' she thought to herself, and looked for another block. It was on the same level, but two slopes left. She needed a long sprint. Making sure her crossbow was firmly strapped into her back, she clenched her fist in determination, and took a running jump. She landed firmly on the light orange block.  
  
A strange noise hummed somewhere above her. Quickly grabbing her crossbow, she released the safety clip and backed up so that her back was against the pyramid wall.  
  
But the danger came from above. A huge beetle, humming and spitting, tried to grab her hair. Lara started and staggered backwards, feeling sand crackle from under her feet. Raising her crossbow, she quickly rebalanced herself on the slender block. The insect was luckily a metre away from her. Aiming quickly but accurately, Lara pulled the triggered and sent an ultra- sharp fibreglass arrow right through the creature. It fell down the pyramid, making a strange zipping sound.  
  
Listening for possible other threats, Lara turned to see the gorge. A shiver went down her spine as she realized she had almost fallen down the slope. Making a mental note to be more cautious, she continued her climb.  
  
The pyramid slopes were like a maze. You had to figure out when to slide down, when to continue the slow, dusty climb upwards. Lara used her binoculars at first but they distorted the distances so badly she had to rely only on her eyesight. It would have been embarrassing to die by falling down to one of the gorges. After a dozen jumps it got tougher, as Lara' soles became a bit tender after all the tirading impacts from her hiking boots hitting the hard stone blocks. A few more beetles had tried to make a meal out of her - a single arrow from her crossbow per capita had been enough. Relieved that she had not encountered any other predators on the small pyramid wall blocks, Lara continued her journey until she found what she was looking for. The pyramid entrance. Gasping as the physical strain of the long climb took its toll, Lara drank from her water bottle, digging out the guard's keys. She used them in the lock near the huge doors, the opening on the outer wall hidden from curious tourists.  
  
Loading her shotgun, Lara stepped into the pyramid.  
  
Hours later, Lara got a premonition of what was to come. Finally having found her route to the Temple of Horus, she didn't know what to expect. Slicers. Triggered traps. Holes full of burning oil. Beetles - lots and lots of beetles.  
  
What she got was very different. Almost an ascetic entrance led to a bluish hallway with torches no one could have lit. Ancient Egyptian tricks.  
  
Lara lit a flare as the torches only managed to cast dim light across the walls. She walked slowly forward - and was taken by surprise.  
  
The chamber she arrived in was bathed in light brighter than she thought was possible in an ancient, undiscovered temple. Wondering if the good old priest Semerkhet had something to do with the torches - as priests were often also architects, Lara cast her flare away and studied the chamber.  
  
Water flowed in two underground fountains, and a large waterskin lay on the floor. At the other end was a large waterscale. Above the fountain there were large, simple hieroglyphics - like wavy lines. Despite her excellent knowledge of hieroglyphics, Lara could not identify the sign. Leaving the riddle for a second, she walked to the other end of the chamber.  
  
The opposite side of the chamber from the scale was not lit. Heavy metal bars separated a dark area from the rest of the chamber.  
  
Lara's hands flew to her pistols.  
  
Something was breathing heavily in the shadows.  
  
Scratchy footsteps and steamy breathing came closer.  
  
What appeared near the bars made Lara stagger backwards. A creature from Hell itself. A brown-orange, long-limbed monster with an alien-looking head and impressive teeth half-crawled in the shadows. The sight made Lara's skin crawl. Taking a look up, she noticed the bars were actually a raisable cage door, strapped into a thin line leading to the waterscale. Lara's brains already sorting out the new-found riddle, she forgot the creature.  
  
She was standing too close to the cage. After a low and mean-spirited growl, the creature attacked. Its forearm reaching from between the bars, it slashed Lara in her shoulder. Lara jumped - and fired.  
  
It was no use. Lara's jaw dropped. As her first spray of bullets hit the creature, it disappeared in a blink of yellow light, only to explode back in sight a second later. Just like the ghost baboons she had watched do cartwheels in a tomb in the mastaba area, shivers going down her spine. Hormone-increased insects and T-rexs she could handle - ghosts were a little out of her field.  
  
Lara jumped even further back from the cage - trying to figure out a way to advance in her quest without running into the hellish creature again. After reappearing in a small, quiet explosion, it had crawled back into the shadows of its cage. Obviously lost its interest in Lara as she was no longer standing within it's reach.  
  
Trying to shake of the horrible feeling of being watched, Lara returned to the waterscale. The adrenaline in her blood wore off, and her shoulder started to hurt. Kneeling down in front of the eastern fountain, she inspected the wounds. They were five inches long scratch marks - deeper and more horrid than any made by tigers or raptors. 'And I thought a velociraptor had unbeatable claws,' Lara raved to herself, washing the wound with the cool fountain water. She covered the marks with a bandage. They burned like fire and blood still trickled from them, but Lara figured a clean and dry bandage would silence them off for some time.  
  
She got up and turned her attention to the hieroglyphics. In the decorative wall carving stood a God pouring water.  
  
Suddenly the puzzle pieces fell into place. The two wavy hieroglyphic lines meant water. Litres. They must've been litres.  
  
Shrugging, Lara picked up the larger waterskin from the chamber floor. It was made of the same leather as the smaller one she'd found from a mastaba. Quickly counting the possibilities in her mind, she filled the large skin, poured water off it to the smaller until it was full. Two litres - two lines. Looking over her shoulder to the shadowy cage, Lara wiped sweat off her forehead and walked to the scale, carefully trying not to spill any water from the large waterskin. Holding her breath, she poured the water into a measuring can on the other side of the scale. Slowly, the scale arm started falling..  
  
Lara still held her breath, overly aware of the burning of the scratch marks..  
  
The scale stopped. Lara turned like the wind to look at the cage door. It didn't raise. She has succeeded. A floor panel suddenly fell down, revealing an opening.  
  
Without hesitation, Lara jumped in.  
  
For Lara's slight horror the monster followed her two floors down. On each floor a water puzzle was waiting to be solved. Lara's brains aching from a lack of sleep, she managed to solve all the waterskin tricks. Finally, the opening on the floor and a pole in the regular bat grotto lead to a chamber of different sorts.  
  
A blue, heavenly light shone down a ravine. The light almost seemed like a living creature - flowing and dancing like a blinding flow of transparent blue water flowing down the ravine. The walls were climbable, as Lara noticed for her great relief. She didn't have enough rope with her.  
  
She hesitated before starting the climb. A second of her thoughts was filled of a sibilant whisper. Or was it something else? It was like locusts. Inside a pyramid? Hardly!  
  
Lara thought of Jean as she turned her backpack over, a sudden intuition hitting her senses. Jean, probably sitting in that apartment alone, perhaps sipping wine. Lara tested herself - would she be there rather than in the temple? No. Waiting was worse than this. Lara smiled to herself as she thought about Jean sitting on the sofa, sipping a glass of red wine, the balcony door open and sand-scented wind blowing in, moving the long curtains.  
  
Lara started piling the intestines of her backpack into two piles. The pillar of light seemed to lead into an enormous chamber with water - just like the one mentioned in the text about the battleground of Set and Horus. Lara knew she had a better chance to succeed if she carried less gear. Her medical supplies were a certain choice. She would need those more than probably. Guns probably weren't going to do much good. The crossbow was an ultra-light model, so she decided to keep it. It offered plenty of firepower in a compact form. Her pistols stayed - more of lucky charms than anything else. Lara stuffed three flares into her shorts pockets. Compass. The scripture statues. The armour of Horus. That was probably all. She was leaving behind all her other weapons - a Remington 12 gauge shotgun, uzis, the revolver sans the lasersight, and the grenade launcher.  
  
Taking a last look at the small antechamber, Lara jumped, grabbed hold of the climbable wall in the supernatural light, and plunged into her destiny.  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~  
  
As always, comments and reviews would be much appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.  
  
siirma6@surfeu.fi 


	3. Chapter 3

I am not making any money with this. I do not own Lara Croft, Tomb Raider etc.  
  
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net and 'Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power'. All other sites email me first to gain permission.  
  
Disclaimer, Thank-Yous and some other notes at the end of the story.  
  
========================================================= The Last Revelation Part V: Broken Skies by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) =========================================================  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Lara almost didn't expect anything to happen when she simply placed the last of the scriptures on the dais with a human-height statue of Horus. The statue seemed to be the only typical piece of temple decoration in the chamber - the rest was ill-coloured rock and water or a roughly carved island.  
  
Admiring her work, Lara stepped back and took a look around.  
  
Then a silent, thunder-like sound startled her. The ground shook ever so slightly, and all of a sudden another blue, heavenly light shone in the middle of the dais, illuminating the Horus statue.  
  
Taking silent steps back to the dais, and dug out the chest piece of the heavy armour she had been carrying all the way from Alexandria.  
  
Not sure how to attach the piece, Lara carefully brought the chest piece closer to the statue. For her amazement it worked like a magnet - the chest piece snapped into its place with no visible seams.  
  
Arm and leg pieces followed - they clicked into their pieces. The arm pieces caused Lara quite a chagrin as they didn't seem to fit until she realized she was trying to fit the right one into the left arm. She finished the armour by clicking the amulet of Horus on the statue's chest. Before letting it attach itself, Lara spared another stray thought of Jean. The amulet had been his dream - his ultimate goal. Before setting off the trip to Egypt - Lara had thought that after she would have had revealed her recovery into the archaeological world, Jean would really have considered her a grave robber, and lost all interest in her. He hadn't. There was too much at stake. Thank God Jean understood it. And thank God he had not offered to come with her. She wouldn't have known how to decline without bringing out the old librarian joke again.  
  
Lara's thoughts were interrupted by the ancient Egyptians again.  
  
The light illuminating the Horus statue intensified. Its colour changed to an almost white - still with a hint of pale blue. Screeching screams approached the chamber and then, suddenly, something seemed to land on the statue. Just a sort of an apparition made of pure white light created a series of powerful explosions of light - none of them harming Lara, who was still standing nearby, watching the scene in speechless amazement.  
  
The light crackled and exploded once again.  
  
On the dais stood Horus. Not the statue. But Horus, one way or another.  
  
But Lara wasn't given much time to admire the sight. The light changed. Narrow stripes of blood-red appeared in the white light. The sound of crickets filled the air, but the insects did not seem to enter the chamber.  
  
The light exploded - but this time the pressure wave did not just pass Lara. It knocked her down violently, squeezing all air off her lungs.  
  
The amulet of Horus was ripped of from Horus' chest, and, shining an innuendo-like red glow, flew away, sinking to the bottom of the waters surrounding the island.  
  
Then all light was gone. Absolute darkness overcame the chamber. Lara was digging out a flare from her pocket, but paused, as a sudden explosion shook the scene. 'These Gods sure know their pyrotechnics,' Lara muttered to herself, her thoughts adrenaline-filled and bitter.  
  
In a corner, red flames danced in a way that would have made Dante's Hell look like the local children's playground. They licked the pillars, whispered, raised their greedy fingers into the high chamber roof.  
  
In the middle stood a figure twice the height of Lara, masked in gold and blue stone, its head that of a predator.  
  
Set.  
  
Lara stood up.  
  
It took her awhile to realize the devil spoke to her. In English. Not stopping to wonder if it was, in one way or another, part von Croy, she listened. If you fight, fight fair.  
  
MY WEAKER COUSIN IS ONCE AGAIN RETURNED TO THE STARS, AND IT IS I, WHO SHALL ONCE AGAIN RULE OVER THIS WORLD ONCE MORE. COME FORTH, AND YOU'LL BOW BEFORE YOUR GOD BEFORE HE EXTINGUISHES YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE.  
  
Adrenaline filled Lara as she listened to this creature swearing his law on the world. She raised her crossbow.  
  
"You are bloody welcome to try. I will not have you take all this away from me. From us. IT IS YOU, WHO ARE GOING BACK!"  
  
With nothing more than primal fear, anger and overwhelming power filling every cell in her body, Lara unfastened the safety clip.  
  
Her anger got the best of her - shooting wasn't going to do any good, she just needed the shot.  
  
'Welcome to the dark side, Luke,' she thought as she pulled the trigger.  
  
She had known shooting wasn't going to do any good. Except that it messed Set's concentration for the second Lara needed to perform a long swan dive to the water, and seek out the sunken amulet of Horus.  
  
Outside, the skies continued their raging. Storm clouds twisted in a Stephen Kingesque manner, as a small group of drunken Danish tourists pointed out while pillaging through an empty bar in downtown Cairo. After a few minutes they were - simply said - eaten by locusts.  
  
Strange things happened in Cairo. And in the world in general.  
  
Every human being and animal knows the atmosphere in nature before rain by heart - even if one has never experienced it. Just a few of the bravest birds sing a sad melody - everywhere overcome a silence. Every atom in the world is waiting for something. And when the first drops of rain fall on the highest leaves of the highest tress, then nature sighs in relief, as if saying 'Good. Nothing more dangerous - just rain.'  
  
It was, of course, slightly different in Egypt that time. It was raining heavy drops of blood.  
  
Inside the temple, Lara delivered a strong kick to the bottom of the underground lake, and her head broke through to the surface. Gasping for air after her long dive, she forced her lungs to calm down and took another plunge. Trying to avoid Set's fireballs as well as she could, she quickly climbed up a low block and took a leap towards a nearby platform with a switch. Pulling it quickly, Lara heard the sound that had already become familiar - Set was blasting her again.  
  
As Star Trekish as it seemed, Set was shooting out green and blue rays of light that struck and injured the wall like lasers. Lara, of course, didn't have much time to marvel at the sight as she was being used as a training target.  
  
Her leap back across the water was a bit too short, leaving her dangling above the water from a rock on the island. Set was approaching. Lara tried to get a better hold of the rock. Set's heavy, dragging footsteps came closer. Then they stopped. Lara held her breath. The creature was standing just above her but couldn't see her. It seemed as if it couldn't bend its neck at all.  
  
Lara let go of the rock with her right hand. Her left hand muscles started twitching from the strain as she quickly pulled her pistol and shot the god right in its neck. A lucky shot that was probably not going to do anything.  
  
An explosion of light. Set was thrown onto its back, followed by another explosion of light. But nothing more. It quickly jumped up, graceful as a ballerina, and continued its hunt.  
  
The few moments of chaos were all that Lara needed. When Set got to its feet she had already run to the other end of the island and jumped to a line of slanted blocks that lead to another switch.  
  
She pulled it just in time before Set sent another of his blazing balls of light in her direction. Lara had to admit the creature's aim was impeccable.  
  
Running forth on the short platform with the switch, she spotted a new block in the Southeast corner. It was like it had grown out of thin air.. Lara had seen those before. Several of them, in fact. And never had she stopped to wonder how someone had managed to create and build such a thing.  
  
'It would be like a garbage truck driver trying to ponder quantum physics,' Lara thought as she got ready for a jump. She cursed silently as she almost fell off the block when dodging Set's fireball. If it hadn't been for those bolts of Set's, it would have been an easy job to flip the switches, climb the ledges, and go home.  
  
Spotting a higher ledge, Lara jumped up and forward, grabbing a firm hold of the ledge. Aware that time was of the essence as hanging from a ledge for a long time was sure to get her toasted by Set's firebolts.  
  
After that, a series or even higher ledges. A steady burning forming in her muscles, Lara continued her climb, occasionally doing leaps of faith and dodging quickly as Set was intensifying its fireballs.  
  
A hiss and a locusty sound. Set leapt up and started hovering in mid-air. Shaking her head in a slight panic, Lara let her instincts take over.  
  
An iron-sharp mind commanded an army of muscles, in a violent dance of escape. Letting out a scream, Lara strove again, and another ledge appeared under her boots.  
  
A crawlspace followed next. The problem was that Set had flown closer and the crawlspace was two metres away from where she stood - in the middle of a slender wall. Twisting into a crawlspace with nothing to support your legs was going to leave her quite vulnerable to Set's bolts and consume a lot of energy. But it had to be done. Clenching her teeth together in determination; Lara ran.  
  
And managed to grab hold of the crawlspace. Dangling from it by her fingers, she screamed. Not words but syllables: a primal scream that echoed all around the underground chamber, almost startling Set. And the scream seemed to give Lara enough confidence and adrenaline that she slowly did a chin-up and started pushing forward to the crawlspace.  
  
As always - touch-wood - she pulled herself up quickly enough. She fell down to a walkway carved from stone. Lara ran quickly to the other side - realizing she was facing Set with nothing to protect her.  
  
The shaft of light was to her right, closer top Set than she was now. Waiting for Set to load - or whatever it was the creature was doing - and the short break in its steady flow of fireballs was enough. Lara ran, leapt and grabbed hold of the climbable wall next to the shaft of light. She climbed upwards as quickly as she could, her shoulder muscles spasming in exhaustion. She continued, letting out a mixture of a groan and a scream every time she grabbed hold of another crevice and pulled herself up.  
  
Arriving on a ledge, she stood for a mere second, and then continued climbing.  
  
Her timing betrayed her. One of Set's lightning bolts hit her left leg as she tried to start climbing and caused her to let out a bloodcurdling scream of pain.  
  
Her grip from the shaft disappeared and she fell hard on her back to the ledge below the shaft. After making sure Set couldn't reach her if she stayed in the middle of the ledge, she inspected the leg, grimacing.  
  
For her surprise it was not burned at all. The bolt of light had been a sort of a pressure wave of hot air - an immense and powerful one. There was at least a sprained muscle, probably also a torn tendon. And numbing pain. An enormous and round reddish bruise that seemed to have a center deeper than its edges, slowly appeared in her leg.  
  
There was no time for this. She had to move. Raising herself with her healthy leg, Lara bit her teeth together, and took another leap up towards the shaft. A firm hold, and she started climbing.  
  
With only one fully functioning leg she was slow, but not slow enough for Set to hit her.  
  
Crying tears of pain, she dragged herself up with her fingers and left leg.  
  
Fortunately the climb was not very long. She arrived in a chamber she had noticed while climbing down before placing the scriptures - a small room with a strange mechanism in front of the opening that lead down the shaft.  
  
Lara made sure she was high enough, then strode herself around backwards grabbing hold of a golden bar in the mechanism, and landed in the room, falling to her knees. Gasping from the exhaustion and excruciating pain in her leg, she lied there for a moment, eyes closed and mind focused on trying to numb herself. Below her, she heard furious sounds made by Set as he was firing his bolts into the walls in anger.  
  
Sitting up slowly, Lara unstrapped her backpack, and dug out her medikit. Swallowing down a painkiller with a gulp of water, a delirious laugh escaped her lips. She had done it.  
  
Putting her water bottle aside, she put her hand in her shorts pocket.  
  
The amulet wasn't there.  
  
A wave of panicky tears filling her eyes immediately, Lara nearly ripped open her other shorts pocket. She broke into near-hysterical laughter. The amulet was there.  
  
Victorious, she placed the amulet in the mechanism. The metallic shaft hatch closed with a hollow rumble.  
  
She truly had done it. But she hadn't steered her boat to still water yet. Turning her back to Set and the shaft, she walked to a now open door on the opposite side of the room, and began her escape as pillars crashed to the ground next to her.  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~  
  
As always, comments and reviews would be much appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.  
  
siirma6@surfeu.fi 


	4. Chapter 4

I am not making any money with this. I do not own Lara Croft, Tomb Raider etc.  
  
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net and 'Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power'. All other sites email me first to gain permission.  
  
Disclaimer, Thank-Yous and some other notes at the end of the story.  
  
========================================================= The Last Revelation Part V: Broken Skies by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) =========================================================  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Outside, everything was changing. Clouds roared aside, and for the first time in days, everyone in Cairo could look at the sky and tell the time of the day.  
  
The sun was setting above the pyramids. Black and red clouds eventually disappeared from sight, and a rich sky of stars lit over Egypt.  
  
The wind blew - but this one only could carry soft sand, not crickets.  
  
People came out on the streets. No one remained inside, as a miracle was taking place. Finally, the apocalyptic atmosphere was gone.  
  
In a balcony, downtown Cairo, stood Jean-Yves DuCarmine. He felt old, as if time had ran away with the clouds. The intention of the moment raised water into his eyes as he stood in the wind.  
  
All this was saved.  
  
His Cairo, his Alexandria. Lara Croft had succeeded. Heroes often died as the consequences of their actions. Jean almost felt an urge to cross his fingers if that would prevent Lara from suffering the same fate.  
  
A saying of hers made Jean smile.  
  
'I make my own luck.'  
  
And she truly did.  
  
After a half a mile of spike pits, slanted stone blocks, dimly lit corridors, and collapsing pillars Lara could no longer run. All her leg could bear was limping inch by inch forward to a dark, upwards curving hallway. The air felt suddenly cooler. Lara's lungs were still yelling for air as she noticed the sight more beautiful than an unfound treasure.  
  
Daylight. Very dim, but yet daylight. Lara limped forward. Wondering if the storm had not ended, it took her awhile to realize it was evening.  
  
Panting heavily, Lara kept going as some rocks fell just behind her. After two metres she stopped, surprised.  
  
Someone was standing in the doorway of the temple. A slight, relieved smile washed over her face for a second, until she realized who it was.  
  
Von Croy. Alive as ever, dressed in his regular beige suit.  
  
But there was no time to waste. More and more rocks started falling, and Lara looked around her, panic almost gripping her.  
  
"Quickly girl, before it collapses around you!" Von Croy yelled, to Lara's surprise. She had expected at least a gun.  
  
Lara dodged a large piece of the hallway ceiling that collapsed in front of her feet, making the floor shake. She had to get out of there.  
  
"You're back, Werner? No more Set?" she spat out in a pleading tone. She had to make sure.  
  
Had to make sure the creature had not escaped.  
  
Von Croy wasn't having any of it. "There's no time! Your hand, Lara! Give me your hand!"  
  
Still reluctant to get indebted, Lara didn't make a move until huge rocks started falling and the hallway floor gave away under her. Ignoring the painful messages her leg was sending, she began running for safety.  
  
She was too late. The floor collapsed into darkness, and Lara fell. She managed to grab hold of a floor tile, but she was too tired, too exhausted to pull herself up. A gorge had opened between her and von Croy.  
  
"Take my hand, Lara! I can pull you to safety!" von Croy yelled to her.  
  
He was too far away. She was alone, again.  
  
"Good to see you again, Werner," Lara commented sarcastically, and grabbed hold of the tile with her other hand. She wasn't going to be able to climb up. She would have to let go and fall down to whatever was below her.  
  
"I couldn't leave you!" von Croy yelled, still holding out his hand.  
  
'Damn great you didn't', Lara thought as the rest of the floor collapsed down to total darkness below. The tile she was hanging onto got loose, and finally collapsed.  
  
And Lara fell with the rest of the collapsing hallway out of the pyramid.  
  
John Crowley, ambassador for Great Britain in Egypt, put the receiver down and leaned back on his chair. Turning the chair around, he looked out of the window down to the streets of Cairo. News like this had been rare under his period in Egypt, and gotten fewer with the terrorist attacks and the recent political situation.  
  
And every once in a while a tourist got bitten by a scorpion and got a ride home in a casket. Unfortunate but inevitable. There were no scorpions in Great Britain.  
  
He was from Glasgow, son of a tailor. He'd gotten himself this far with hard work. When he'd found out being a diplomatic was a desk job, he'd managed to become the ambassador. Dealing with foreign guests, robbed Brits and archaeological dig permits for museums, he felt important.  
  
This was not going to be a good advertisement for him. Deaths in mysterious circumstances wasn't good for tourism.  
  
At first he'd thought of it as a joke. But after the recent weather events and tabloid headlines he couldn't easily dismiss the phone call he had just received.  
  
He turned back to his desk and pressed a button on his phone.  
  
"Yes?" Echoed through a speaker.  
  
"Sheila? Could you please bring me the excavation permits for this year."  
  
The phone went dead. After a few minutes his secretary walked in and placed a sheet of paper and a cup of tea on his desk. She studied her face. "Bad news?"  
  
"Perhaps. Thank you," he dismissed her. She marched out.  
  
Only one excavation permit? For the British Museum.  
  
A strange phone call, indeed. A male voice with a strong hint of German in his English had informed him that an employee of the British Museum, archaeologist Lara Croft had been killed as a temple in Giza had collapsed.  
  
Temple? Collapsed? In Giza - the excavation permit was for Alexandria.  
  
Shrugging to himself, John sought out the name of the leader of the excavation. Jean-Yves DuCarmine. He dialled a local number given for Alexandria. No answer.  
  
There was a handwritten cellphone number below. John dialled it. He hated speaking to someone in a cellphone - he'd become very aware how lousy the Egyptian GSM network was.  
  
After a few signals someone answered.  
  
"Evening? Is this a Mr DuCarmine?"  
  
"Yes?" a French-hinting male voice replied.  
  
"This is John Crowley, ambassador of Great Britain calling. I have just received a phone call saying a member of your excavation team in Alexandria has been killed in an accident."  
  
"Killed? Who?" Jean sounded concerned.  
  
John leaned back on his chair. "A Miss Lara Croft."  
  
Jean said nothing. He couldn't believe. It could not be true. Just couldn't. She had succeeded - hadn't she? Making sure, Jean walked to the balcony and was greeted by a starry sky.  
  
"She is not a member of my team, but I do know her." Jean replied silently.  
  
"I am sorry for the loss, and was hoping that you could make some arrangements for the body to be transported to Britain for a proper funeral. Things like this are always very sad - there are a lot of reports and papers to be filled.," John started his usual speech.  
  
Jean did not say anything. Staring out into night, he let the phone fall from his hand.  
  
He'd been aware of the possibility. But he had never really accepted it.  
  
Not Lara.  
  
On the other end of the phone line, John finished his usual speech, and said a polite goodbye.  
  
In the balcony, Jean pressed the red received in his cellphone, and left it on the sofa. He silently walked to the kitchen, and found his wallet on a chair. He dug out a crumpled piece paper he'd never thought he'd need.  
  
On the piece of paper was written a phone number. Given by Lara to him for their trip to Cambodia, it was for the greatest emergency. Jean collected his phone from the sofa, and dialled the number, sighing heavily.  
  
"Could I please speak to Lord Henshingly Croft? Thank you," Jean said as someone picked up the phone in Britain.  
  
Ten kilometres from downtown Cairo, the pyramids greeted the African Moon as it rose to greet the land of the Nile. The are was calm, not even the pyramid guards walked around. Egypt was sleeping.  
  
Inside the Great pyramid, beyond traps and gorges, lay the Temple of Horus. And further away, deep down in the Earth, was a dark chamber full of collapsed rocks.  
  
And in the darkness, lay Lara Croft. Covered in dust and sand, body bruised and tired after a battle and with a mild concussion created by a five-metre fall to the chamber floor.  
  
High up, light from outside the temple covered the walls in an eerie glow.  
  
Lara returned to consciousness. Sitting up as slowly as she could, she stretched her back. Ignoring her headache and blurry thoughts, she inspected her surroundings.  
  
She was in total darkness somewhere under the exit of the temple. From the light shining in the chamber ceiling she could tell it was night. She's been unconscious - or sleeping for a steady hour or two.  
  
Amusing as it was, almost nothing in her body seemed to be broken. Blood- trickling bruises were many, but the only thing had broken after a five- metre fall was her right little finger. She must have tried to soften the fall with her hands.  
  
Her left leg, with the souvenir from Set, didn't hurt so terribly much anymore. Luckily.  
  
Lara dug out a flare from her backpack. She ripped off the cover, and the chemicals lit.  
  
The room she was in was a half-finished rocky chamber. The eastern wall had been carved into a pillar-supported crypt, but most of it was still rock and sand.  
  
Lara stood up and strapped her backpack in her back. She discarded the dimming flare, and lit another one.  
  
She walked around the chamber, not letting herself become worried. It was possible that there was no exit - that someone had blocked it. But there must've been a door of some sorts - how could someone have carved the chamber without one?  
  
There indeed was a door. It was so deep in the shadows of the unfinished part of the area that it had not been visible to the place she had fallen down to.  
  
It was not blocked. Relieved, Lara entered it.  
  
Another dark hallway.  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~  
  
As always, comments and reviews would be much appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.  
  
siirma6@surfeu.fi 


	5. Chapter 5

I am not making any money with this. I do not own Lara Croft, Tomb Raider etc.  
  
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net and 'Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power'. All other sites email me first to gain permission.  
  
Disclaimer, Thank-Yous and some other notes at the end of the story.  
  
========================================================= The Last Revelation Part V: Broken Skies by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) =========================================================  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Lara checked her watch. It was no use - it had been broken in the fall, and the fluorescent fluid inside that made it shine in the dark had flowed off.  
  
Lara's flare died out, and to her amusement she noticed a stain in her blue top that shone in the darkness with a ghostly green light. So that's where the liquid had flown - she must've had hit the watch in a rock as she fell, and then she'd fallen with her hand on her stomach.  
  
Well, the watch was no use. After lighting the second last flare Lara checked her compass. She was going north - not that it mattered much. She continued forward. The hallway took an upward curve.  
  
On the ground was a torch. Lara decided to save her valuable last flare, so she lit the torch from her burning flare. Advancing along the hallway, she thought about the Egyptians who had built the temple.  
  
First time in a long time, Lara had time to think. To really think.  
  
She was underground - with no visible escape route in sight.  
  
'What's new?' she thought as she walked. Her left leg forced her to take short breaks every once in awhile.  
  
The hallway took another turn. The sound of Lara's footsteps changed. There was sand under her boots. The last time she'd heard the crunching of sand under her steps was in the chamber she had fallen into. The sand had fallen down along with the collapsing rocks. Sand from near an exit - sand from outside.  
  
In Cairo, Jean-Yves woke up suddenly. It was as if his unconscious had delivered a nasty kick in his forehead.  
  
Jean left his bed. Something was wrong. Something didn't fit in with the picture.  
  
After calling Lara's father he'd fallen asleep, just to wake up a half an hour later. He'd dragged himself into bed, reluctant to think about anything.  
  
He should have spared the thought a lot earlier.  
  
Dressing himself in a bathrobe, he grabbed his cellphone and pressed the 'on' button. He entered his code almost too quickly for the phone to understand it, and searched out the memory for the last coming calls.  
  
One was from Britain. One from Alexandria. One from Cairo.  
  
Ignoring the fact that he was definitely waking people up, Jean phoned up the Cairo number.  
  
"This is the embassy of Britain. If you are not in an emergency, please call at our office hours from 9 am to 5 pm. If you are in an emergency, please call this number: 23 4527 3726."  
  
Jean wrote down the number, his hands shaking. He dialled the number.  
  
"Crowley," someone answered in the other end.  
  
"This is Jean-Yves DuCarmine. I spoke to you this evening, there's." Jean was interrupted by John.  
  
"Mr DuCarmine, I understand your situation, but it is in the middle of the night. This number is for emergencies only."  
  
"If mine doesn't count as an emergency, then nothing does. I only need to know one thing."  
  
"Needing to know things is not an emergency," John replied dryly.  
  
Jean ignored him. "I need to know who called you about Lara Croft."  
  
John coughed on the other end. "He didn't give me his name. It was a man, an older man, with a German or Austrian accent."  
  
"Thank you," Jean replied quickly, and switched off the phone. Throwing it on the sofa, he ran to the bedroom of the borrowed apartment he was staying at, he made a world record in speed dressing and grabbed his car keys from the bookshelf.  
  
Von Croy. The rat. He must've lied.  
  
In the temple of Horus, Lara Croft was sitting in a narrow hallway, eating a chocolate bar. Marvelling at the incoherent plot that was her life, she stuffed the plastic wrapping into her shorts pocket, took a sip of water from her bottle, and continued her walk.  
  
She was still going north. Her torch was still burning steadily. Then the hallway changed into a staircase. Realizing she was really getting somewhere, Lara quickened her pace.  
  
Then the hallway ended in a dead end.  
  
Feeling a sudden urge to give it up and cry, Lara quickly looked around her. The panic moved aside.  
  
There was a switch in the wall.  
  
Lara extinguished the torch as she couldn't flip and switch and hold it at the same time. She lit the last flare she'd been saving, and held it in her teeth as she flipped the switch.  
  
There was a sound like thunder. Then a square of ceiling above her started moving.  
  
Suddenly, ten gallons of sand fell down onto her.  
  
Kicking like a drowning woman, Lara tried to free herself. But her efforts were unnecessary. The sand flowed down the stairs, revealing a sight Lara would have paid all the money in the world for.  
  
Night sky.  
  
Without hesitation Lara jumped up, grabbed the edges of the square hole opening to the outside world, and climbed up.  
  
To her left, stood the Sphinx, staring into the horizon as it had stared ages before her. As it - thanks to Lara Croft - was going to guard Egypt until the next millennia. And the millennia after that.  
  
A quiet humming of a car came from a road further away. Lara turned. A lonely Ford was speeding towards the pyramids. It parked near the pyramid area. The driver got out.  
  
The driver didn't bother closing the car door. Lara watched in silence as the man started walking towards the Sphinx. After ten metres he saw her.  
  
And started running.  
  
Jean.  
  
Lara started running towards him.  
  
One day later Moussat Khali Bazaar Tea Room Cairo, Egypt  
  
"You know, there are two people in the world who are going to hate me after hearing this," Jean said, obviously meaning the fact that the Lara Croft sitting on the opposite side of the tea room table was a far from being a ghost than anyone could.  
  
"And who might those be?" Lara asked, taking a bite off her sandwich.  
  
Jean laughed. "The ambassador of Britain and your father."  
  
Lara paused her eating and looked puzzled. She corrected the position of her sunglasses, and took off her hat. She wanted to enjoy the sunlight - a luxury she had not seen for a week. She was wearing a long linen skirt and a black top. She looked at Jean again, her eyes demanding an explanation in the way only Lara Croft's eyes could.  
  
Jean sipped his tea. "I used your emergency number. Cliché, but I thought you were dead."  
  
Lara and Jean shared a laugh.  
  
"It's easier to build a pyramid than to kill Lara Croft," Jean added. "So, I take it you're going to call your father and scare the devil outta him."  
  
"What an exciting day for dear old Dad, finding out her daughter was dead," Lara said sarcastically. "Actually, I won't call him. I don't have a father, remember?"  
  
Jean sighed. "Always the cynic."  
  
Lara smiled. "You know Jean, I bet he'd have accepted our marriage out of the blue back then. Son of a diplomat - his dream son-in-law."  
  
"Don't start," Jean said, smiling lightly. She never failed to amaze him.  
  
"I can't believe I brought the subject up. I must be getting old," she commented, as pushed away her empty plate. "I just heard you've been asking about me every once in awhile," she explained.  
  
"Someone has to keep a count on you, you know."  
  
Lara slapped him playfully on his arm. "Shame on you. I take care of myself."  
  
"I know. I'm just trying to revive your sense of humour."  
  
"I'll show you sense of humour..," Lara joked, finishing her tea.  
  
"If you need a vacation, you can always come and help out in Alexandria. I know a thing like that would be like a holiday for you. Unless you have to do some writing."  
  
"I won't write a book out of this. If I did, I'd be probably considered potential material for a padded cell. I would write a book if anyone believed a word of it."  
  
Jean took a look around him. It was almost noon, the bazaar was full of camel salesmen, begging children, wives shopping and shopkeepers yelling out their exclusive offers. All these people - and no one knew what Lara Croft had done. But perhaps it was for the best.  
  
Jean felt privileged - and annoyed by the fact that he did feel privileged.  
  
Lara stood up, picking up her blazer from the back of the chair. "Thanks for the offer, Jean. I apologise in advance as I have to decline it. We have to go - my plane's leaving in two hours."  
  
"Don't say you already have a job offer waiting."  
  
Lara smiled. When had she become so predictable? "You know me."  
  
A waiter appeared and Jean paid him. "Your bags are in the car - I packed them ready for this morning."  
  
"You're a treasure, Jean," Lara replied as they walked to his car. He opened the door to her and they began the drive to Cairo International Airport.  
  
Lara opened all the windows. Taking advantage of the last chance of enjoying the hot Nile Valley air, she had no doubt in her mind that she would return to Egypt one day.  
  
If the world needed saving ever again, she'd be ready.  
  
~The End~  
  
~Fortune multis dat nimium, satis nulli.~ latin: Fate gives many people too much, but not enough for anyone.  
  
There are a few people I would like to thank, as I finish "The Last Revelation". First of all, this series has been a thrill to write. TR:LR is the most inspiring game I have ever played, and I hope Core will reach its quality in the upcoming TR5.  
  
I've received a lot of help from numerous people - if someone is left out of this list, it is not because his or her help has not been valuable - it is solely up to my poor forgetting mind. The names are not in the form of a ranking list of any sorts.  
  
Ryan Foley. A man of vision, adventure and heroism. Without the inspiration and influence I got from "Wonders of An Ancient Glory" I would never have written this.  
  
Kali & Jeppe, my never-tired editors and helpers. Your praise and constructive criticism made me spot my rabbitholes and fill them up with soil. Now they grow roses ;=)  
  
Tim Radley. "Infestation" taught me a lot about Lara and writing her in action. It also taught me how to create a good, flowing plot. He also helped me with my English, as I am not a native English speaker, and gave invaluable advice concerning this series. I hope I was worth all the trouble.  
  
Bowen H . Greenwood, one the most encouraging and hard-working webmasters I've seen.  
  
This story is not meant to be taken as official fact about Lara Croft or her family. The name of her mother used here is not official. Lara Croft and Jean-Yves is person are owned by Core Design & Eidos Interactive and I have to desire to claim them as my own. I have no idea whatsoever what Lara's aunt's real name is. Whether 'Gillian' is a reference to The X-Files is all up to the reader.  
  
Professors Murray & Sandringham, Merit Hawkes, Mr Ranariddh, Jean's parents, embassador John Crowley, Lieutenant Calder plus all the clerks, salesmen, pyramid gurds, air stewrads and stewardesses are my own creation. Any similarity to living or dead person in the physical world are pure conincidences. None of these characters have living models of any kind.  
  
Thank you for reading this story. If I, as a writer, can one one wish: it would be: write to me. If you liked this, if you didn't, if this raised any comments or questions - throw me with some email. To an author, feedback is the only expected reward for working hard. It keeps us going.  
  
Heidi Ahlmen Siirma6@surfeu.fi 


End file.
